Bear My Burdens
by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns
Summary: Draco will have a friend in Blaise, and Blaise is going to make sure he knows that.


Note: Post War!AU

* * *

Blaise wrinkled his nose in disgust as he set foot inside the raunchy bar. The air smelled of putrid feet and urine, and the people looked less than welcoming—if you don't count the women in their 'welcoming' clothing. One thing was certain, Blaise hated Muggle bars.

The dingy, taupe space had a small area for dining—whatever fools would eat in the disgusting place—and an area for the civilians to dance. He made a mental note to _Scourgify_ his robes after leaving the vicinity. His eyes scanned the rest of the place, stopping at the bar where a man was downing a shot of what Blaise hoped was alcohol.

That man was the reason why he was there; it was his best mate Draco. He had been searching for him, knowing that the bloke would be missing due to the occasion: his mother's funeral.

Narcissa's death to an unknown Muggle illness was taken hard by Draco; she was his mother after all. Though Blaise assumed that grieving for the loss of his mother without his father—thanks to him being deceased two years ago from the very same Muggle illness—took a larger toll than he originally thought.

With brisk steps, Blaise approached the man and leaned close to him. He was going to say something, but Draco beat him to it.

"If you are going to breathe down my neck, at least have a mint," Draco said.

Blaise sniffed and turned his nose up, shifting his taupe robes draped around his body. "I just happened to get here, so whoever's breath you're smelling is not mine," he retorted.

Draco snorted harshly before downing another shot and slamming the glass on the bar table once it was empty.

The Italian sighed, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Come on, mate. This is not the way to do things."

"I can do what I damn well please."

"So you're going to waste yourself in a Muggle bar?"

Draco shrugged carelessly. "If my mother can die from an illness that Muggles created, so can I. I heard the drinks poison your body here nicely." He made a gesture with his hand to the woman behind the bar that Blaise guessed would mean another round of shots.

"If something is going to poison you in this place, it could be more than the drink," Blaise remarked, glancing around quickly. "You shouldn't be here."

"Why are you here?" Draco demanded, facing Blaise completely. "I remember distinctly saying that I wanted to be alone once the funeral ended."

Blaise took in his friend's appearance. From the front, Draco's hair was disheveled, and his grey eyes were glossy—they could have appeared blue in the light—which Blaise knew was from his drinking. Draco wasn't slurring yet, only insulting, so that was a sign that he wasn't as far off yet. The black robes that Draco had been wearing at the burial site were nowhere to be found. Only Merlin knows which bugger had taken it in this place.

He couldn't have his best mate falling in despair like this. Not alone in this Muggle bar full of strangers that could do more damage to him with the unknown. Not in Muggle London _period_.

Blaise took a deep breath, shrugged off his robes, and reached for Draco. "I'm sorry, but I'm doing this for you."

The Malfoy heir didn't have time to react before Blaise took hold of him around the shoulders and began to drag him away from the bar. Of course, this didn't go peacefully. Draco kicked and screamed, spouting profanities left and right; though with both men nearly matching in physique, the struggling was simply a struggle. No one in the bar looked in their direction; must have been something they were used to.

"Unhand me!" Draco demanded once they were outside with the chilling air and bright moon and stars. He pushed off Blaise, tossing the coat to the ground and wiping his chin with his arm as he glared at his friend. "Have you gone mad? Handling me like that."

Blaise ran a hand over his faded-haired head. "Getting you out of there was the best option, Draco," he explained. "I only wanted to make things better."

Draco's brows rose in a 'seriously?' kind of way. "You think taking me away from drowning from my sorrows is better?" he said. "You're not making me feel better! You're making me feel worse! I'm not some prince or princess needing to be saved by my best friend!"

Blaise had enough. "This is not the way to grieve!" he shouted, pointing at the ground. "The only thing that'll come from this is a cheap shag and a headache in the morning. The pain will still be there."

"You don't get it, okay?" Draco yelled, his hands shaking on either side of his head. "I can't just refresh my life like you. I can't just get over my mother's death. The fact that she died just like that sonuva bitch only makes it worse!" He was heaving so harshly that Blaise could see Draco's breath.

"My mother may be alive, but I lost her a long time ago, remember?" Blaise said, hoping to remind his drunken friend of the memories he shared with him about his mother's dedication to other men.

"Drinking won't make the pain go away forever. I didn't feel refreshed or better. It only made me worse, and I'll be damned if the same thing happened to my best mate."

Draco's shoulders slumped, and he staggered forward. Blaise reached for his friend, allowing him to bury his head in Blaise's shoulder. He could feel the tears starting to seep through his sweater.

"Mother should be here right now," Draco said through sobs. "She should not be dead."

Blaise patted Draco's back. "I know, mate, I know."

At the very least he'd make sure Draco gets a portrait set up for Narcissa. He'd known the woman since he was a child, and she was like a mother to him as well. It pained him to see Draco having to deal with this. So he would remain by his side, doing whatever it took to get Draco through the pain of his loss. He was his brother, and he could bear the burdens of sorrow with him, even if that meant comforting his crying friend on the pavement in Muggle London.

Which reminded him; he needed to get them out of the public eye. He didn't need to add the use of memory charms to the list of things to handle while they were there.

* * *

A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges and Assignments), QLFC, and Camp Potter

(QLFC) Team: Wigtown Wanderers; Position: Chaser 1; Prompt: write about a character from the month June (Draco, Dudley, Dobby); Optional Prompts: (word) refreshed, (color) taupe, (dialogue) "If you are going to breathe down my neck, at least have a mint."

(Camp Potter) Cabin: Potter; Activity: Ice Cream Maker - Flavor: Butter Pecan (character) Blaise Zabini

(HSWW) Assignment #1 Muggle Arts Task 1 - write about facing a loss (can be any kind of loss)

Disney Challenge: Bert - write about two people who have been friends for a long time

Book Club: The Commander - (trait) lonely, (dialogue) "I only wanted to make things better.", (color) black

Lyric Alley: 'I am not a stranger to the dark.'

Ami's Audio Admirations: Top 40 Singles - write a fic where the main theme is not about romance.

Count Your Buttons: Dialogue - "You don't get it, okay?"

Em's Emporium - Emiliya - (quote) "It's always easier to resolve conflicts face to face."

Angel's Arcade - Katana: (color) blue, (word) princess, (action) glaring

Lo's Lowdown: Quotes - "The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone." - Harriet Beecher Stowe

Bex's Bazaar: Timothy Q. Mouse - write about a supportive friend

Sophie's Tea Room: Pistachio Scones with Lemon Glaze: (dialogue) "I'm sorry, but I'm doing this for you."

Holmes Mystery Challenge: (word) stars

Gobstones Club: White Stone - mourning, Accuracy - (word) Heir, Power - (dialogue) "You don't get it, okay?", Technique - (emotion) disgust

Word Count: 1,104


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